Last Dance
by DreamsofSpike
Summary: Blaine's pretty sure going to senior prom alone thoroughly sucks...


He's standing by the punch bowl, nursing his third cup, and smiling, and trying for everything he's worth to look as if he's having a good time, and not like he's _alone_ at his senior prom, because he actually made good on his word and found Tina a cute, interested boy to go with… not like he's _disappointed_ or anything that apparently the extent of the "friendship" he and Kurt have now _doesn't _extend to Kurt being his "just friends" prom date –not now that Kurt has an actual, real live boyfriend in New York who might object to such things.

Lots of people go to prom alone; it doesn't mean he can't have a good time.

He's been telling himself that for the past two hours.

The night is drawing to an end, and the lights go dim, and a slow, romantic song begins to play. Blaine swallows down the last of his drink, trying to ignore the ache in his chest, the knot in his throat, the stinging at the back of his eyes, because he's just so _lonely_, and why does he have to be the only one who doesn't have anyone tonight? Why can't he just be happy? Why does he always have to screw it up?

He heads for the door, looking forward to the cool night air on his face and the cover of darkness to hide the tears burning in his eyes. He finds his way blocked by 150 pounds of solid, black-tux-clad, _unbelievably_-amazing-smelling boy, and looks up to see Sam standing in front of him, head tilted in a slightly questioning look.

"Leaving?"

"Just getting some air," Blaine sighs, looking away and swallowing hard, one arm wrapping protectively around his torso. "I think I've had just about enough fun for one night…"

"But it's the last dance," Sam points out.

"Yeah. Seems pretty much just like all the other dances tonight…" Blaine mutters, edging past Sam and through the doorway.

The last thing he needs right now is to feel pitied.

Before he can leave, however, Sam's hand catches his, effortlessly turning him around. Blaine looks up again, startled, eyes widening at the slightly shy smile on Sam's lips.

"Not quite," he replies quietly. "I… was actually going to ask if you wanted to dance with _me_."

Blaine stares in disbelief, myriad conflicting emotions rushing through him.

It has to be a joke, right? Except that Sam wouldn't joke like that, not with him, not now that he _knows_, wouldn't hurt him like that, but he wouldn't lead him on, either, would he? But he's still with Brittany, and Sam's not a cheater, and neither is Blaine, not anymore, and it just _doesn't make sense_…

"_Hey_…" Sam's voice is soft and soothing, and the hand that pulls Blaine closer, then comes to rest on his side, is calming and reassuring. Sam's smile is warm and gently teasing as he meets Blaine's eyes. "Stop panicking, dude. Okay? It's just a dance."

"Just… a dance," Blaine echoes, uncertain, but he lets Sam lead him back inside and onto the dimly lit dance floor.

"I've danced most of the dances tonight with my date. Why can't I dance one with a friend?" Sam shrugs. "Girls do it all the time."

"But… aren't you worried that… I mean, people will think…"

"I don't care what they think," Sam says softly as he slides a strong arm low around Blaine's waist and moves in closer, and Blaine focuses on Sam's warm eyes and confident smile, because he's not brave enough to look around the room at the other students. "What this is, is none of their business."

Blaine feels a little breathless, a little off balance, and gratefully lets Sam take the lead as they move gracefully across the dance floor, Sam's strength steadying him and holding him up. "And, uh…" he ventures after a moment, glancing down at his own hand on Sam's chest. "What… _is_ this, exactly?"

"You're my friend. My _best _friend, actually," Sam explains. "And – I think you deserve to have one perfect, romantic prom moment with the guy you wanted to take you. Everyone deserves that, and – I _want _you to have it." Sam shrugs slightly, and that shy, enchanting smile is back on his lips. "And if that guy just so happens to be me, well… that works out pretty well, doesn't it? Makes it a lot easier for me to pull that off."

Blaine laughs, rolling his eyes a little before dropping his head onto Sam's shoulder, torn between so many different emotions – he's embarrassed, but not terribly… confused, more than a little, by the closeness of their bodies and the surety with which Sam is touching him… but most of all, he just feels warm and safe and certain that this strange, honest friendship is something to be treasured, something rare and valuable that he wants to hold onto as long as he can.


End file.
